


Rose of Jericho

by kaigazing



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Vampire: The Masquerade - Bloodlines (Game), M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2018-10-30 07:27:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10871991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaigazing/pseuds/kaigazing
Summary: Kim Jongin was a blossoming dancer at the Sunset Theatre in Seoul before he was drained of his blood and anonymously Embraced. Taken in by bar owner and fellow vampire Do Kyungsoo, Jongin must learn the ways of Kindred vampires while navigating strict Camarilla society.





	1. part i

Jongin watches the late night news anchor report his death, a picture of him from his latest performance taking up the top half of the screen.

 

“The city has lost one of its premiere artists in Kim Jongin, better known as Kai, who went missing Thursday night from the Sunset Theatre and has been presumed dead by police,” the man says grimly. “Kim was the star of theatre’s award-winning dance troupe, having been trained in ballet, jazz, hip-hop, and contemporary dance.” The station flips to a pre-recorded interview.

 

The first is of chubby-faced Park Jimin, his understudy for the current production the theatre was putting on. “Gosh, he was such an inspiration,” the young man says, eyes red and face flushed from crying. “He never hesitated to give me advice and help me perfect my moves. He was my idol. I-I still can’t believe he’s gone.”

 

“Kim was described by both his superiors and his peers as hardworking and naturally gifted. He’s been dancing since he was eight after he saw _The Nutcracker_ ,” says the reporters disembodied voice over a montage of Jongin’s childhood photos. He feels numb when he looks into the smiling face of his eight-year-old purple-leotard-wearing self.

 

The screen flips to Kang Seulgi, the female lead of the production. “Jongin was a great guy. He was actually really shy.” She lets out a sad laugh. The station plays a recording of his last performance, displaying his dance skills with Seulgi’s voice in the background. Kim Jongin could never dance with that confidence and suaveness in front of a room full of people. He created an alter ego long ago to take all the pressure off his mind—Kai. “You’d never guess that from the way he held himself on stage. He just... _transformed_. It was like you were watching a totally different person. It was magical to see.”

 

Last they show Lee Taemin, a somber smile on his face. “Jongin was my best friend. We went to high school and college together, joined this troupe at the same time. It’s like I’ve lost a brother. I hope he’s watching out for me, wherever he is. I love you, man.” His voice cracks at the end. His sniffs and rubs at his nose, ducking his face out of the view of the camera.

 

The screen turns back to the reporter. “He is survived by his parents and two older sisters.” A picture of the front steps of the theatre is shown, the steps filled with flowers, posters, letters, and candles. “A candlelit vigil will be—“

 

The TV suddenly turns off, shaking Jongin from his stupor.

 

“Hey!” he shouts, turning to glare at the short man standing behind the couch.

 

“What’s the point in watching that? So you can feel sorry for yourself?” the man asks, his silver eyes narrowed.

 

“I just wanted to see how my family was,” Jongin reasons. He tucks his chin on his knees and glares at the blank TV. “Kill me for wanting to check up on the mess I left.”

 

“It’s best to just leave that all behind and forget about your previous life,” says the man, like suppressing all the memories of his family and friends is a walk in the park. He sets the remote down on the glass coffee table in front of the TV. “The bar’s opening in thirty minutes. Let’s go.”

 

Jongin watches the man walk out the front door without further comment, leaving him alone in the open plan apartment. He sits on the couch for a moment longer, glancing at the remote. Should he turn it back on? See how the city is mourning him? He shakes his head; Kyungsoo said to forget about it. That will make everything easier for the eternity to come.

 

He moves off the couch and slips on his shoes at the front door before leaving the spacious apartment. The apartment building is quite modern, as is most of Seoul. Much brighter than what Jongin thinks of when “vampire den” comes to mind. Kyungsoo’s apartment is on the second floor of the building, even though he owns the first as well as the basement space underneath. The basement is converted into a bar, and that’s where Kyungsoo’s little crew of outcasts hangs out.

 

The cool breeze doesn’t affect Jongin as he walks outside the building and down the stairs to the front entrance of the bar. Many symbols meaningless to Jongin surround the doorframe and posters advertising local bands are plastered on the concrete walls of the building. A copper plaque reading “GROWL” is screwed into the space left of the doors, with little font below it saying “est. in 1986”.  

 

The bar is fairly simple as far as bars go. The establishment is permanently bathed in an orange hue with a countertop area that spans most of the room. Booths line the perimeter, with tables set up to fill the center of the room. To the right of the door is a small stage set up for live bands. No one would ever think this place had an all-undead staff.

 

“Evening, fledgling,” brightly greets one of the bartenders from behind the counter. Baekhoon? No. Baek-something, he’s sure.

 

“Evening,” Jongin mutters, slightly uncomfortable. He’s been in the bar and met its workers a grand total of one time, and it was while he was still hyped up on his first blood high, so he can’t really remember much.

 

Kyungsoo is behind the bar as well, cleaning the countertop with a rag that’s seen better days.

 

“Jongin, my brother,” greets the last member of the staff, a tall, lean man with a grin large enough to split his face. Said man walks over to him and wraps an arm around his shoulder, pulling him into his side.

 

Jongin lets out a grunt at the impact. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

 

“What?”

 

“You called me ‘brother’ last time I was here, too.”

 

“You’ve been holed up with Kyungsoo for a week and he hasn’t told you anything?”

 

Jongin spent most of that week laying in Kyungsoo’s bed and sulking about the loss of his life, the passage of time feeling nonexistent now that he has an eternity. Kyungsoo had to practically force-feed him blood as all Jongin wanted to do was waste away into nothing. It was only until Kyungsoo informed him that no, he would not waste away but rather become a mindless monster and go on a murdering spree to get blood that Jongin gave in and drank.

 

“We didn’t find the time to,” Jongin replies weakly.

 

Baekhyun pipes up. “Is that code for you had sex?”

 

Jongin stares at the man in shock, unexpected anger rising in his chest. He was _killed_ seven days ago, met Kyungsoo a day after that, and all this guy thought he had on his mind was sex? Sorry he wasn’t thinking about getting his rocks off while he was mourning the end his life. Can he even come anymore? His body is technically dead; doesn’t everything shrivel up and turn to dust? Would he _ever_ have sex again? Shit, is his dick going to fall off? Christ, he’s one step away from stepping into the sunlight come morning. He can’t live like this.

 

“Look what you did, Baek. You made the kid have an aneurysm,” Chanyeol scolds.

 

“What? That was a perfectly logical conclusion considering all the ogling those two were doing last week—“

 

“I wasn’t ogling!” Jongin protests. “I was high off blood.”

 

“And I was watching him to make sure he didn’t go into frenzy,” Kyungsoo says.

 

Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay.” He puts his hand up to his mouth and stage whispers to Jongin, “I saw him checking out your ass.”

 

“Baekhyun, you’re on cleaning and running duty for the rest of the night.” Kyungsoo’s voice has a tone of finality that leaves no room for argument.

 

But leave it to Baekhyun to piss on that boundary and set it on fire. “This is the punishment I get for being a beacon of truth in this hostile group—“

 

“Cleaning and running tomorrow, too.”

 

“ _What_ —“

 

“Maybe you should stop, Baek,” Chanyeol suggests lightly.

 

“I will not be silenced by the tyrannical Do Kyungsoo—“

 

“A week.”

 

“ _Fuck_.”

 

⧩

 

Jongin doesn’t know who his Sire is because he was attacked from behind.

 

He had been doing a late night practice in the theatre, running through the routine until one in the morning. He hadn’t stopped because he felt satisfied (he never felt satisfied), but because the aches were starting to become too much. He’d have to take a long, hot bath when he got home to relax his muscles and then take a couple pain pills to reduce the strain in the morning. Then he’d take a couple more the next morning. It’d be fine—it wouldn’t be the first time he’s has such a schedule.

 

He’d left through the back door like he always did. He was locking up the door with the keys the theatre owner, middle-aged man named Mr. Yu, entrusted him with when a hand grabbed his shoulder in a painful hold and pulled him close to a chest. Before he could even get so much as a squeak out, the strong hand left his shoulder and covered his neck while the other arm wrapped around his waist in a crushing hold.

 

Jongin remembers the slide of fangs puncturing his skin, his Sire’s teeth latching onto the skin of his neck. Jongin’s hands flew up to grip at his Sire’s wrists in a vain attempt to pry them off. His Sire’s hand muffled his scream and the arm holding his body left no room for movement—there was no way for Jongin to get anyone’s attention. But what sane person was up at this hour? Drunks? His Sire was smart, whoever he was.

 

After the initial sting of the puncture, Jongin felt a shot of pleasure course through his veins. Suddenly, his entire body was hit with a wave of arousal that had his knees shaking. His grip on his assailant’s wrist tightened as he let out a moan, his eyelids fluttering. All sensation in his body was focused on the point where he was connected to his Sire.

 

The pleasure consumed his body, clouding his brain and blurring his vision. Black spots began to fill his eyes, his grip on his Sire’s wrists loosing. Eventually, his arms became too heavy to hold up and fell limp at his sides. Jongin’s muddled brain barely processed that he was being drained, but at that point there was nothing he could do. His legs buckled—the only thing keeping him up was he Sire. Jongin could hear the blood pumping in his ears slowing down as his attacker continued to suck his blood. Eventually, his body went numb. His vision went black soon after.

 

Jongin was left in that alleyway next to the theatre, drained of all his blood with a drop of his Sire’s vitae on his tongue. It is that single drop that initiated the Embrace, the transformation from human to Kindred.

 

When he woke up, the world was doused in a red fog and all Jongin could process was the burning of his throat. He gasped, clawing at his throat as if the action would stop the pain. Instinct took over when he couldn’t process what was happening. One shake step at a time, Jongin moved foreword out of the alleyway, and into the streetlight. He looked around the empty road, unsure what he was searching for. Jongin’s body moved without his approval, taking him down the street in a quest for _something_. It wasn’t until he came across a bum sleeping in an alleyway did he realize with horror what was inevitably going to happen.

 

He jumped on the poor, defenseless old man with wild abandon, finding his throat and biting down immediately. He let out a moan when the first drop hit his tongue, the blood sending a buzz of pleasure through his body. Jongin vaguely remembers the man shouting hoarsely and thrashing, Jongin’s grip crushing his brittle bones. He was a sloppy, inexperienced eater, as most the blood ran down his chin rather than made it into his mouth. He sucked the old man completely dry of his blood, refusing to detach until he got every last drop.

 

He was in the middle of wiping the off his chin and sucking his fingers when he realized what he just did. He yelped, falling to the ground and pushing himself across the alleyway. His entire body was shaking, whether from pleasure or fear he didn’t know. He tried to open his mouth, but nothing would come out of his throat. He stared into the dead man’s glassy eyes, unable to look away. Dead. He was dead. And Jongin murdered him. Dead dead deaddeaddead _dead_ —

 

Jongin screeched when a presence suddenly appeared beside him. He jumped away from the wall, pushing himself further back into the alley. He stared fearfully into glowing platinum eyes.

 

“P-p-please. I-I-I d-didn’t m-m-m-mean to,” Jongin stuttered.

 

The person kept silent and walked closer to him, forcing him further back until he hit the back wall of the alley.

 

“Pu-pu-please.” Jongin didn’t even know what he was pleading for.

 

The man, as Jongin could see now, crouched in front of him. He reached a hand out, stopping when Jongin flinched away from him. He continued on cautiously, moving to cup Jongin’s cheek and looking him directly in the eyes.

 

“Help me,” Jongin whispered.

 

He stayed silent, his glowing eyes judging. Then he said softly in deep voice that shook Jongin to his core, “I’ll take good care of you.”

 

⧩

 

Toreador: the clan of beautiful _artistes_. They are the masters of seduction and manipulation, their charm able to affect even the strongest kine mind. Their downfall is their obsession with their own personal ideas of beauty, ranging from paintings, music, dance, or anything really. 

 

That is what Jongin has become, according to Chanyeol, a fellow Toreador.

 

“Shouldn’t I be leaving the city, or something?” Jongin voices out from his spot on the couch. He put a drama on, but hasn’t been following the story, too deep in his thoughts.

 

Kyungsoo, who’s sat on one of the loveseats next to the couch, turns to look at him. “Why?”

 

“Because people will recognize me.”

 

Kyungsoo shrugs. “Seoul is a big enough city. You were popular, but not famous.”

 

“Gee, thanks,” Jongin deadpans.

 

He shrugs again. “It’s not like you’re wandering around during the day. You only have to worry about seeing people at night, and even then they probably won’t recognize you. Just don’t go where people you know hang out and you’ll be fine.” Suddenly, he curses. “Speaking of wandering around a night, you can’t really do that right now without the threat of being executed. I need make a call.”

 

He gets up and walks toward the kitchen, leaving Jongin gaping at his back. “You can’t just tell me I’ll get executed if I go outside and then walk away! Hyung!”

 

Kyungsoo waves him off, picking up his cellphone of the kitchen counter. Jongin feels himself pouting as he settles his head on the back of the couch, keeping an eye on the elder as he dials a phone number and puts it on speaker.

 

After three rings, the call is answered. “ _Kim Junmyeon speaking_.”

 

“Hey, hyung,” Kyungsoo says. “It’s Do Kyungsoo.”

 

“ _Kyungsoo? What’s wrong? Did Sehun do something stupid again?_ ”

 

“Are you alone?” Kyungsoo asks, avoiding the questions.

 

“ _I can be. Give me a moment; I just got out of a meeting_.”

 

“Oh. Something interesting catch the Camarilla’s eye?”

 

“ _Well, we’re calling a community meeting Monday. ‘Interesting’ isn’t the word I’d use to describe this, though. More like worrying._ ”

 

“You gonna tell me what its about or...”

 

“ _You know I’m really not supposed to, Soo._ ”

 

Jongin watches a sly grin fall across Kyungsoo’s face. “But you’re gonna anyway, right?”

 

A deep sigh comes through the line. “ _Most likely.”_ Jongin can hear the click of a door opening and closing. “ _All right, I’m in my apartment_.”

 

“Spill.”

 

“ _Have you heard anything about illegal Embraces lately?”_

 

Kyungsoo makes eye contact with Jongin, who sinks further into the couch. His creation was illegal? Vampires have _laws_?

 

Kyungsoo clears his throat. “Funny you mention that—“

 

“You _didn’t do something stupid, did you? I can’t protect you from the consequences of illegally siring someone, Kyungsoo_ —“

 

“No, no. I didn’t. But I found a Childe.”

 

“ _Christ. Are they with you? Did they do something awful? Do you know the Sire?”_

 

“Yes, no, and no. Well, uh, there was a casualty—“ Jongin gulps, dropping his gaze, “—but it was no one important and I cleaned up the mess. I was calling you to figure out what to do with him, though. I’ve been monitoring him for about a week now. He’s perfectly fine and is completely capable of maintaining the Masquerade. But his Sire...he was attacked, hyung. It was a forced Embrace.”

 

“ _...Shit. God, the other one was just conducted without tht permission of the prince, but now we have the possibility of another fucking Kim Hyuna on our hands?”_

 

Jongin watches Kyungsoo stiffen at the mention of Kim Hyuna, his eyes widening. “Fuck, I didn’t think about it like that. This could be a lot worse than I thought.”

 

“ _And I’m the one that has to deal with it! Just...you said the fledgling was behaved, right? No issues?_ ”

 

“Yeah. I’ll take responsibility for him.”

 

“ _Great. What clan?”_

 

Kyungsoo closes his eyes and rubs the bridge of his nose. “Toreador.”

 

A sharp intake of breath sounds over the speaker. “ _It really is Kim Hyuna all over again. Look, Kyungsoo, just get that kid to the meeting Monday. I’ll try to butter up the prince for you_. _”_

 

“Thanks, hyung. That’s all I can ask of you.”

 

“ _Take care, Soo. And keep that fledgling off the streets until Monday night. The prince is feeling a little blood thirsty after the recent violation_.”

 

“Will do. See you Monday.”

 

“ _Bye.”_ The phone beeps, signaling the call dropped.

 

Kyungsoo puts his head in his hands. “Fuck.”

 

“Hyung,” Jongin calls softly. “Who’s Kim Hyuna?”

 

The elder sighs and stands up straight. “She was a Toreador. Back in the nineties, she went on this rampage and managed to Embrace twenty-five people, most of them unwilling or deceived. Embracing kine, or mortals, without the permission of the Camarilla is illegal and has the penalty of death. She ruined a lot of young peoples lives, and easily avoided the Camarilla because they’re completely incompetent. Ironically, she met her Final Death by the hands of one her Childer. Now the Toreador has this group of young vampires they want nothing to do with.” Kyungsoo rubs his forehead. “It was a dark time for the Kindred community.”

 

“Oh,” Jongin says plainly, unsure how to respond. He looks back down at his hands.

 

“Don’t worry,” say Kyungsoo in his soothing voice. “Everything will be fine.”

 

⧩

 

Jongin does absolutely nothing over the weekend. He sits in his usual booth during bar hours, simply observing everyone. Baekhyun sneaks him a cup of blood, telling him that no one can tell what it is just by looking at it. That didn’t really calm his nerves, as he spends the entire night glancing around the room to make sure no one is watching him.

 

When Monday rolls around, Kyungsoo leaves the bar under the control of Baekhyun and takes Jongin to the Camarilla meeting. (The Camarilla, he’s learned, is the governing body of the vampire community.)

 

He can’t shake the fear that he’s walking straight to his death tonight. He keeps fidgeting, his steps heavy as he struggles to keep pace with Kyungsoo who is way more collected than he should be in this situation. The elder seems to sense his fear, and moves to place his hand on the small of Jongin’s back. Oddly enough, it’s the comfort Jongin needs.

 

⧩

 

Jongin freezes at the site of the meeting place when they round the corner. The modern white façade with grand mahogany doors leaves Jongin reeling.

 

“Oh, shit,” Kyungsoo mutters from beside him. “Forgot about that.”

 

“You guys hold meetings in the Sunset Theatre?” Jongin exclaims, whipping his head to stare at the elder in disbelief.

 

“Surprise.”

 

“ _Surprise_? Were you planning on telling me?”

 

“Honestly, I totally forgot. My bad.”

 

“You’re damn right it’s your bad.” Jongin crosses his arms and looks away. “Let’s just get this over with.” He starts marching toward the door, Kyungsoo jogging to keep up with his long strides.

 

Jongin tries to ignore the uncomfortable feeling growing in his chest as Kyungsoo opens the door for him. He’s immediately met with the sight of a blown up picture of his smiling face and a remembrance display filled with flowers.

 

“Fuck,” Kyungsoo breathes.

 

Jongin whimpers.

 

⧩

 

Kyungsoo herds Jongin up to the empty second floor, his hand secured to the small of Jongin’s back. The younger pulls his jacket tighter around his body, trying to find some comfort in this awkward and painful situation. They sit in the center of the front row, and Jongin immediately sits back and curls into himself. Kyungsoo does the opposite, leaning forward onto the railing and scanning the crowd.

 

“Big turn out,” he muses.

 

“Great, more people to watch my execution,” grumbles Jongin as he glares at the ground.

 

“You’re not going to be executed.”

 

“How do you know?” Jongin asks petulantly.

 

“I won’t allow it.” The blunt response has him dropping his bratty attitude and glancing over to Kyungsoo. The elder doesn’t acknowledge him, continuing to look out into the crowd.

 

Jongin slowly unfolds himself, moving forward to look down at the first floor. What Kyungsoo called a “big turn out” is really only about fifteen people, including the group of very official looking vampires standing on the stage where Jongin used to perform. He gulps as he focuses on the broad sword holstered to the back of one of them. Jongin notices that the vampires are either in very small groups or sitting alone, and no one was socializing. The theater was actually quite quiet, filled with the buzzing of soft whispers.

 

Jongin flicks his gaze back toward the stage, watching as a young-looking man in a three-piece suit and gray pea coat walks up to the edge. His entourage turns to face the crowd, Junmyeon among them.

 

“Good evening, fellow Kindred,” he projects, his voice soft like his features. “We have some important matters to discuss tonight as the community has seemed to forgotten the Camarilla’s policy on siring.” Jongin tenses, dread settling in his gut. Kyungsoo’s hand settles on his knee, giving it a comforting squeeze. He finds himself instinctually leaning toward the elder, seeking solace.

 

“The Camarilla has made it abundantly clear that siring is a privilege that must be requested. Have I ever denied your requests without fair reason?” The man looks around the crowd, and then turns his narrowed gaze up to the second floor. Jongin gulps, trapped in the severe silver gaze. Kyungsoo’s thumb starts rubbing soothing circles on his knee, and the man soon returns his gaze back to the first floor audience. “I believe I have been a fair judicator when it came to assessing your potential Childer, so I don’t quite understand why unauthorized Embraces seem to be a trend.” The man sighs, placing his arms behind his back. “I suppose I have to remind the community that the penalty for unauthorized siring is death.”

 

Two limp figures are carried from behind the side curtains to stage left. The men carrying them force them into a kneeling position to the side of the stage, the man in the gray coat watching with his narrowed eyes.

 

“I do not find pleasure in carrying out these executions, but upholding the Masquerade is of the utmost importance to the survival of our species. I am simply adhering to the laws that bind our society.” The man nods to the one with the broad sword, who steps forward and unsheathes the weapon.

 

“Close your eyes,” Kyungsoo whispers to him as the man raises his sword above his body.

 

Jongin complies, flinching when he hears the metal cutting through the air and two subsequent thumps. He cracks his eyes open after whispering starts up again, his eyes widening when he sees one vampire is left, still with a head. The other vampire’s body has completely disappeared from the stage.

 

“I have decided to let this Kindred live. A childe should not be punished for their sire's misdoings. As such, we will be educated this fledgling in the ways of our society.” The man’s gazes turns to the second floor. “Onto our next case.”

 

Jongin stills, unsure what to do. Obviously this guy has some sense of mercy, but whom is he going to execute? Kyungsoo, for taking care of him?

 

Kyungsoo gives him another squeeze on the knee before he stands up. “Good evening, prince.”

 

“Good evening, Mr. Do,” the man in the gray responds icily. “I assume you have an explanation for this, considering you came here of your own free will.”

 

“I’m not here to confess. He isn’t my Childe,” Kyungsoo says evenly. “I found him on the streets newly turned and have since been caring for him. He poses no threat to the Masquerade—“

 

The prince interrupts unapologetically. “Then who turned him, Mr. Do?”

 

Jongin watches in awe as Kyungsoo stays calm. “An unknown Toreador, sir. He was attacked from behind, late at night, inside the alleyway just next to this building.”

 

“Perhaps the Toreador Primogen has an explanation?” The prince turns in his gaze to someone on the first floor.

 

“This is the first I’m hearing of this, prince,” responds a familiar voice that has Jongin’s heart metaphorically stopping.

 

“Mr. Yu?” Jongin whispers, easily recognizing the voice of the owner of the very theater they are sitting in. Jongin has always been a favorite of Mr. Yu’s; the man never hid his attraction to the young man. He always politely denied him, but the old man never really stopped pursuing him.

 

“So we have a rogue Toreador, then? And you, Mr. Do, did not think to see me sooner about this?”

 

“I merely showed him the mercy you just graciously displayed, prince. _A childe should not be punished for their sire's misdoings_ ,” Kyungsoo responds. “I trained him, monitoring his progress until he was ready to attend one of these meetings.”

 

The prince’s eyes narrow again, staring down Kyungsoo who remains strong, his shoulder back and chest foreword. A battle stance, Jongin realizes.

 

The prince gives in after another moment. “This meeting is adjourned. Mr. Yu and Mr. Do, please stay behind.”

 

Jongin falls heavily back into his chair, running a hand through his hair. “Am I safe?”

 

Kyungsoo sits down, nodding his head. “Yeah, I think so. He’s probably going to launch an investigation, though. That’s why he’s making us stay.”

 

They wait for the theater to empty before walking downstairs and to the stage. The fledgling is escorted away, leaving only the prince, two of his men, Mr. Yu, Kyungsoo, and Jongin.

 

When Jongin joins the circle, Mr. Yu looks at him with a wide grin. Jongin return it with a small, tight smile.

 

“We have quite the issue on our hands, gentleman,” the prince begins. “I was not alerted of any trespassing, so unless this rogue Toreador can teleport, I believe the assailant is within our community. I will _not_ have a repeat of the Kim Hyuna disaster.”

 

“I will fully support any investigation you deem necessary, prince,” Mr. Yu says resolutely.

 

The prince smiles, but it looks forced. “Brilliant.” He turns to Jongin, who stills under his stare. “If the fledgling could share his story, that would be most helpful.”

 

With Kyungsoo’s hand on his back as his anchor, Jongin draws in a deep breath. “It happened two Thursdays ago at about one in the morning. I, uh, was finished up practicing here and went out the back door that leads into the alleyway—“

 

“Let’s go there,” the prince cuts in, already moving toward the back door.

 

Kyungsoo and Jongin trail behind the group, Mr. Yu cutting to the front to lead them through the theater. Once they are out in the alleyway, Jongin begins again.

 

“I was locking up when they came behind me. They wrapped a hand around my mouth and pulled me close to their chest so I couldn’t struggle. I couldn’t see anything because I couldn’t move my head.”

 

“A man or a woman?” the prince asks.

 

“Definitely a man.” Jongin thinks for a moment. “Muscular and big hands. Tall, too.”

 

“Sounds like _your_ Toreador, Mr. Do,” the prince accuses.

 

“He was working at my bar during the time of the attack. I can produce witnesses, if you want further proof,” Kyungsoo responds coolly, but his grip on Jongin’s back tightens. “That description is too vague to accuse anyone.”

 

The prince gives Kyungsoo a _look_ before turning back to Jongin. “Is that truly all you can remember?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

The prince sighs. “Donghae, Eunhyuk.” The two men who came with stand to attention. “Try to find what you can. We can’t let this criminal run free and threaten the Masquerade. Dismissed.”

 

“Yes, sir,” the two chorus before they begin looking around the alleyway.

 

The prince leads them out the alleyway and back to the front of the theater. “We have one more issue. Someone must take responsibility of our Sire-less Childe.”

 

Mr. Yu opens his mouth to speak, but Kyungsoo beats him to it. “I will. I’ve taken care of him thus far.”

 

“What can a _Brujah_ teach a Toreador?” Mr. Yu sneers. “Jongin will flourish under the guidance of his own clan.”

 

“As the prince said before, I have a Toreador. A gifted one, at that,” Kyungsoo simpers, his eyes dark.

 

“’Gifted’ is not a word I’d use to describe Park Chanyeol.”

 

“You didn’t give him the chance to show his worth, Mr. Yu. You didn’t give any of them much of a chance, did you?”

 

Mr. Yu purses his lips, choosing to ignore the jab. “I’ve known Jongin much longer than you have, Kyungsoo—“

 

“Enough,” the prince silences them, looking irate. “Let the Childe choose.”

 

Jongin bites his lip looking between Mr. Yu and Kyungsoo. Mr. Yu _had_ known him longer, and knew a lot about his interest. He was also the Toreador Primogen; who better to learn from then the representative of his clan? But Jongin was not comfortable tying himself the old man. The theater owner has pursued him since he graduated college, never backing off after all of Jongin’s rejections.

 

Kyungsoo was... _safety_. He’s selflessly cared for Jongin the past two weeks simply out of the goodness of his heart. Baekhyun, Chanyeol, and even _Growl_ were all friendly and welcoming. So, yes, Kyungsoo didn’t know him well. But Jongin wanted him to.

 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Yu,” he apologizes, “but—“

 

The old man holds up his hand. “You don’t need to explain yourself. I trust your judgment.”

 

“Now that that’s settled,” the prince says, turning their attention back to him, “I bid you all good night. You all best be headed home—the sun rises soon.” And with that, he walks back into the theater, leaving the three alone.

 

“He’s pleasant,” Jongin mutters without thinking, his eyes instantly widening afterwards. To his relief, both Kyungsoo and Mr. Yu chuckle.

 

“Ah, young Jeongsu has always been like that,” muses Mr. Yu. “He has a tough job, keeping this city in line.”

 

Kyungsoo snorts. “Not sure that’s an excuse.”

 

“Another prince would have executed Jongin. I count ourselves lucky.”

 

Jongin jumps in, seeing as the conversation was leading to an argument between the two obviously opposing vampires. “Uh, Mr. Yu, can I talk to you for a moment?”

 

The old man blinks in surprise before giving him one of his grins. “Of course, my boy.”

 

Jongin returns his smile, albeit slightly forced. “Thank you.” Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow, his eyes asking “really?”. Jongin gives him a subtle nod and he reluctantly relents.

 

“I’ll wait for you on the corner,” he mutters before walking away.

 

Jongin looks back to the owner of the theater, unsure where to start.

 

“I can see you have many question,” Mr. Yu states. “First of all, let me say how happy I am to see that you’re alive. Well, perhaps maybe not _alive_ , but that you’re still walking around. When they said you just _disappeared_ from the theater, I felt like I had indirectly caused your death. But yes, the theater. I allow the Camarilla to hold its meetings here. It paints a nice picture of me for the prince.” Mr. Yu winks at him, and Jongin feels an unpleasant shiver run down his spine. “Nobody knows that the stage they perform on also hosts late-night Kindred meetings.”

 

That explains why on certain nights Mr. Yu would force him to leave early.

 

“Definitely not,” Jongin mumbles. “Are you the only...”

 

“Kindred? Yes. There are some ghouls—human servants of Kindred—that work in the troupe, but that’s it.”

 

Jongin gulps. “This is so surreal.”

 

Mr. Yu chuckles bitterly. “I find myself quite angry with this situation, actually. You see, my dear, I had full intentions of Embracing you myself.”

 

Jongin stares at him with wide eyes.

 

“I would’ve let you live out your career first, of course. The last thing I wanted to do was take that from you. Skills like yours...they can’t be taught. I wanted to preserve that essence for eternity.” Mr. Yu shakes his head. “I had a request letter written up already, but someone beat me to it. And that someone didn’t have the decency to properly sire you. I would’ve treated you much better.”

 

Jongin apologizes, unsure what else to say.

 

“Don’t apologize. None of this is your fault—you’re the victim here. I’m sorry you’re career was cut so short.” Mr. Yu sighs. “We will find who did this to you and punish them severely.”

 

“Thank you,” Jongin says hollowly, still stuck on the part where Mr. Yu admitted he wanted to sire him. “I think I should get going. Kyungsoo’s waiting.”

 

Mr. Yu nods. “It was quite smart of you, going to Do Kyungsoo for protection. I’m not sure there’s anyone the Camarilla fears more, not even the Brujah Primogen.” Jongin furrows his eyebrows in confusion. Kyungsoo, the human personification of restraint, is feared? “Nevertheless, if you ever seek advice from an _actual_ Toreador, my doors will always be open to you.”

 

Jongin bids him good night and runs to Kyungsoo, uncaring if he seems rude.

 

“How did your talk go?” Kyungsoo asks, his voice smug.

 

“Shut up,” Jongin whines and lightly shoves his arm, eliciting a laugh from the elder.

 

“Has he always been like that?” Kyungsoo questions once they round the corner.

 

“What? Thirsty for my ass? Ever since I turned legal.” Kyungsoo laughs again. “It’s not funny! He’s so creepy. I always knew something was off about him.”

 

“So what did you two talk about?”

 

“Basically about how he wanted to turn me into his pretty little dancing doll for eternity, but my Sire beat him to it. He was all like, ‘I’ll treat you better’ and ‘if you ever want a real man, my door is always open’. Christ, he’s so skeevy.”

 

Kyungsoo chuckles. The two fall into a comfortable silence as they continue to walk down the street. Jongin has more questions, like the obvious vendetta Mr. Yu has against Chanyeol and the fact that apparently the Camarilla is terrified of Kyungsoo. He figures asking about the fellow Toreador is a safer option.

 

“So why does Mr. Yu have a thing against Chanyeol?”

 

Kyungsoo frowns. “It’s not really Chanyeol he despises, but rather Chanyeol’s Sire.”

 

“Oh. Was he a bad guy?”

 

“ _She_ was, yes.” Kyungsoo purses his lips. “Remember Kim Hyuna and her rampage?”

 

Jongin’s eyes widen in shock. Chanyeol is one of the young Kindred the Toreadors shun?

 

Kyungsoo shakes his head sadly and says nothing else.

 

Jongin stays quiet, unconfident about asking Kyungsoo about the Camarilla fearing him. Some things are just best left unspoken.

 

⧩

 

Jongin has trouble staying awake during the day. Kyungsoo explains its because he’s newly Embraced and the sun puts a strain on him; once he gets older, the sun won’t affect him as much.

 

For now, when the sun rises, Jongin tucks himself into Kyungsoo’s bed as all the energy seeps from his body. The apartment has blackout curtains that are almost never touched, so the inhabitants are safe from meeting their Final Death unintentionally. However, his body knows the sun is up, and staying awake becomes impossible.

 

Amazingly, he dreams. Jongin figured that since he is dead the dreams would be replaced by dark nothingness. It’s actually the complete opposite. Jongin dreams more vividly now, as if his enhanced senses are translated over to his dream state. During his first nights he had nightmares of his attack. He remembers feeling so _scared_ and _helpless_. And Kyungsoo had to listen to his whimpers, as there is no way for him to wake Jongin up.

 

Now, it’s much less terrifying. After the meeting, his dreams are suddenly _warm_ and _calming_. He’s suspended off the ground, wrapped in a cocoon of safety. He leans into an invisible force, seeking further comfort. Then, the cocoon begins to mold in shape. Arms begin to take shape as one wraps around his waist, the other near his face as a thumb begins to stroke the apple of his cheek. Jongin opens his eyes to stare into familiar silver. He recognizes the cropped black hair and porcelain-like skin immediately.

 

Jongin gasps as the hand on his hip slips further down, grasping at his thigh. The other hand moves to hold his jaw, the grip still gentle as his head is moved up to expose his neck. Jongin gulps at the feeling of the other’s nose running against his jugular, his hot breath fanning against his skin.

 

Jongin feel his eyes become lidded as he relaxes further into the other’s grasp. He doesn’t know what to focus on—the lips dragging against his neck or the hand inching up his thigh.

 

“ _I’ll take good care of you_ ,” whispers Dream Kyungsoo, his lips brushing against the shell of Jongin’s ear.

 

He wakes up.

 

He forces himself to forget everything that transpired in the dreamland as Kyungsoo stares at him with strange glint in his eyes from the couch. The elder raises a curious eyebrow, and Jongin curses himself for thinking the man looks so attractive in his tight white shirt and jeans.

 

“It’s nothing,” Jongin explains.

 

Kyungsoo shrugs and leaves it at that.


	2. part ii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> proof im not dead and neither is this story

Jongin sits on the couch sipping out of his blood bag like some morbid Kaprisun, his fangs peeking out of the corners of his mouth as a natural reaction to the scent of blood. He’s wearing comfortable, over-sized navy sweater and gray sweatpants (courteous of Chanyeol); out of habit he’s pulled the sleeves over his hands to make paws. He can only imagine how much he resembles an over-grown child, and that’s probably why Kyungsoo is staring at him with a weird glint in his eyes.

 

“You know,” Kyungsoo says suddenly, “you can’t live off blood bags.”

 

Jongin pouts around the straw. “Why not?” Blood bags didn’t struggle or scream and they provided Jongin with enough sustenance. Yeah, the blood tasted weird, but the flavor kind of grew on him.

 

“Well, for one, they go bad quickly. Two, they cost a lot; I’m not made of money and you’ve pretty much depleted my stock. Three, you have to drink twice the amount of cold blood to feel the effects of one amount of normal blood, so you’re not functioning at your full potential. I’m worried about you safety. And four, it tastes _awful_.” Kyungsoo makes a face. “I don’t know how you’ve drank so many. I have to force it down during the rare times I drink it.”

 

“It’s an acquired taste,” Jongin says sheepishly, “and I feel fine.”

 

Kyungsoo sighs. “That’s because you’ve never been at your full power. You’re weak—a target. It’s my responsibility to keep you alive and teach you the ways of the Kindred.”

 

“Then I’ll never leave the apartment.”

 

“You know that’s not an option,” Kyungsoo argues softly. “What are you afraid of, Jongin?”

Muffled screams fill his head; memories of a man’s terrified face flashes in his mind. He remembers being so _helpless_ , unable to control his body as he drained the defenseless man.

 

“I can’t control _it_ ,” he says, fear tinting his words.

 

Kyungsoo soundlessly moves to sit beside him, his comforting presence almost immediately reassuring him. “You only frenzied because you were recently turned; you’re in a much more stable state.”

 

Jongin stays silent.

 

“You _need_ to learn how to properly feed, or this is going to be a painful eternity.” Kyungsoo raises a hand slowly, gripping onto to Jongin’s arm. His thumb starts rubbing soothing circles into the fledgling’s bicep. “Let me help you.”

 

With a sigh, Jongin gives in.

 

⧩

 

They stand next to each other in an alleyway a few blocks from the apartment.

 

“It’s not the blood that gives you sustenance, it’s the energy found in blood—we call it vitae—that does,” Kyungsoo says. He’s in his black leather jacket that Jongin really likes, leaning against the brick wall with his arms crossed. “And you don’t have to worry about hurting anyone. It’s as pleasurable for them as it is for you. It’s because of that pleasure that they’re left in this hollow state for a minute after you’ve drank; it gives you a chance to get out of there. They won’t remember you.”

 

Jongin nods in understanding.

 

“There are some rules for you to follow in order to maintain the Masquerade, as per Camarilla laws,” Kyungsoo continues, looking bored as he explains the guidelines. “The obvious is don’t drink in plain sight. You’re nowhere near strong enough to wipe the memories of possibly hundreds of people in a single go, so just lay low. Alleyways are always your safest bet, but if you’re out in the open, try to lure them into a shadow or something. Seeing as you’re a Toreador, that part shouldn’t be so hard for you.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“We can feed from animals, but their blood is shit, and gross animals can make you vomit up the blood and you’re back to square one. Gross people can make you vomit, too. Don’t go after anyone that looks sick. Bums are easy prey, sure, but be careful.”

 

Jongin nods again.

 

“Also, _don’t drain them_. Killing mortals messes with your humanity. The more you kill, more humanity you lose, and the closer you get to being in a permanent state of frenzy. Then the Camarilla will call a Blood Hunt and you’ll be executed. Got it?”

 

Jongin gulps. “Yeah.”

 

“Great.” Kyungsoo straightens up. “Let the hunt begin. You lead.”

 

⧩

 

After opening his senses (which he finds _are_ pretty weak), his nose leads him to an alleyway a block away from a club. Both him and Kyungsoo are camped out in an alleyway again, watching from the shadows are groups of loud young adults walk by. Jongin’s instinct tells him to wait and he keeps his eyes trained on the opening.

 

Jongin’s patience pays off as one young man stumbles into the alleyway, obviously intoxicated. He shouts to his friends further down the street that he needs to piss and promptly unzips his pants. Before he can make any other move, however, Jongin zeroes in on his exposed neck and pounces.

 

The man lets out a startled sound, but doesn’t scream as Jongin sinks his fangs into the soft flesh. Jongin unabashedly lets out a moan as soon as the blood hits his tongue. _Christ_ , this taste nothing like blood bags; it’s _so_ much better. The blood doesn’t have a particular flavor per se, but he can feel his body energize the longer he stays latched. He can actually _feel_ his skin tightening and his muscles growing as the blood revitalizes his body. Suddenly, he can hear a dog barking from inside its eighth floor apartment ten blocks away. The aroma of food trucks near the Han River fills his nose—fried squid and tteokboki. He lapses up as much as he can, quenching the thirst he has been ignoring for weeks.

 

“That’s enough.” Kyungsoo’s stern voice startles him from his blood-induced daze. His stomach drops when he realizes the man is oddly relaxed. Not limp, though, thank God.

 

Jongin forces himself to retreat his fangs and releases the human from his grip. The man sways unsteadily, but doesn’t fall. Jongin looks at his face, noting that he’s staring blankly ahead of him as he continues to sway mindlessly.

 

“You did a good job.” Jongin jumps, whipping around to look at the shorter vampire now standing behind him.

 

Kyungsoo snorts. “Perhaps our next lesson should be how to feed cleanly.”

 

Jongin’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, unsure what Kyungsoo was talking about. Kyungsoo tries to hide a smile before reaching up and swiping his thumb across Jongin’s chin, the tip graze his bottom lip.

 

“Still such a fledgling,” Kyungsoo sighs fondly before looking at his now-bloodstained thumb. “It’s never good to waste,” he says before sticking his thumb in his mouth.

 

Jongin feels a rush of arousal at the sight, but immediately pushes it down in embarrassment. He can feel his cheeks heat up and he quickly averts his eyes.

 

Kyungsoo chuckles.

 

The blush spreads to the tips of his ears.

 

⧩

 

“Hey, Baekhyun-hyung?”

 

“Yeah, kid?”

 

“How much does a bag of blood cost?”

                                  

“Usually 75,000 won a pop, but Kyungsoo can get it for 50,000 ‘cause he’s friends with a dealer. Still expensive as fuck, though.”

 

⧩

 

“A drunk college student for a first feed?” Chanyeol makes a face. “You could’ve at least gotten him something a little more high-class, Soo.”

 

Kyungsoo shrugs. “It was his hunt. And the blood wasn’t the worst from a drunk I’ve had.”

 

Baekhyun lets out a low whistle. “Sharing a meal? Little intimate, don’t you think?”

 

Jongin feels his cheeks heat up again, and he swipes at his lips to relieve the sudden itch there.

 

“He made a mess.” Kyungsoo shrugs, unbothered. “I was helping clean up.”

 

Chanyeol shakes his head before turning his attention to Jongin. “So, you’re working at full capacity now, huh? What’dya say to a introductory lesson on Toreador Disciplines?”

 

Jongin furrow his eyebrows. “Disciplines?”

 

“Abilities,” Baekhyun clarifies, leaning on the bar top. “Us Kindred like having fancy names for simple concepts. Hell, I just called vampires ‘Kindred’.”

 

Chanyeol drapes an arm over Jongin’s shoulders. “C’mon, little fledgling; let your hyung teach you the ins and outs of Clan Toreador.”

 

Jongin glances over at Kyungsoo, who gives him an encouraging nod. He lets Chanyeol drag him to a booth in the far back corner.

 

“As I’ve told you before, our clan is all about presence. Seducing and manipulating comes easy to us, so you don’t have a worry much. I’ll get into that more when people start showing up—what’s with the face? You didn’t think you’d practice charming _me_ , did you? Nah, gotta test that out on some kine first before you move to Kindred. Don’t worry; you’re a Toreador. No one will even notice you’re doing it.”

 

Jongin thinks Chanyeol is putting _way_ too much confidence in him.

 

“Next is our speed, our celerity. All Kindred have this ability, but some of the clans, like Toreador, are faster than others. We can test that now. Run as fast as you can to the door and back so you can get a feel of it.”

 

Jongin hesitantly stands up, anxiously biting his lip. Well, what’s the worst that could happen? He could trip or slam into a wall and embarrass himself in front of his seniors. They’d never let him live that down; even Kyungsoo enjoyed teasing him.

 

“Just go,” Chanyeol encourages. “I promise it’s not as difficult as you think it is. It’s instinct.”

 

The fledgling takes a deep breath, steadying himself before locking his eyes on the front door. He moves to run like he would normally, only for the opposite wall to appear suddenly in front of him. He lets out a small noise of surprise, putting his hands on the wall for support. He takes another breath before turning around and running back, almost immediately appear back by the booth.

 

“What the fuck,” he mutters. He looks up at Chanyeol, who starting at him with a gaping mouth. “What?”

 

“Holy shit, did you just teleport?” exclaims Baekhyun from behind the bar.

 

Jongin turns around to look at Baekhyun, who is staring at him with wide eyes. Even Kyungsoo, who’s sat on a stool in front of Baekhyun, is looking at him in awe.

 

“I don’t think I did...” Jongin says. “What happened?”

 

“We couldn’t see you running,” Kyungsoo explains, still looking amazed. “You weren’t even a blur. You were just...one place one second and another the next.”

 

“What does that mean?” Jongin looks to Chanyeol for answers.

 

Chanyeol Toreador snaps out of his stupor. “It means you’re fast as fuck. Probably the fastest Kindred I’ve ever seen.” His signature wild grin splits his face. “Imagine if you had some real quality blood in you. No one would be able to lay a finger on you.” He turns to Kyungsoo. “You found a good one, Soo.”

 

Kyungsoo catches Jongin’s eyes and smirks. “I know.”

 

⧩

 

The bar is in full swing by eleven, the bar packed dense with the usual Friday night crowd. A local band is set up, having moved to requests after a slow start with their own material. The bar appeals to young adults with the staff of young, attractive men. Baekhyun is incredibly friendly; he can make conversation with anyone and have them feeling like they’re a long lost friend. Chanyeol is an amazing charmer even without his abilities, his tall height, deep voice, and muscular body commanding attention. Kyungsoo’s kind and calm demeanor is unmatched—if he isn’t behind the bar, he’s wandering around to check on the customers.

 

Maybe one day, when Jongin’s more confident, he’ll help around a bit. Create his niche within this weird, little group.

 

He watches Chanyeol leave the bar, switching places with Kyungsoo. Chanyeol walks back over to him, sitting down right next to him. He drops a heavy arm around Jongin’s shoulders, like he usually does.

 

“So, I’ve been scoping out the kine, and I think I found a couple of good ones for practice,” he says into Jongin’s ear. “See the girl in the purple dress at the end of bar, sitting by herself?”

 

Jongin looks for said girl, finding her almost immediately. She’s turned toward the band, her chin propped up on her hand while she absentmindedly stirs her drink with the other. She’s brunette and thin, her dark purple, knee-length dress hugging her figure. From behind, she’s pretty much an average Seoul girl.

 

“She’s a good first practice,” Chanyeol continues. “She’s cute. Nothing too overwhelming. Plus, she looks lonely.”

 

“What am I supposed to do?”

 

“Seduce her. Get her to write down her name, her phone number, and something else. Whatever you want.” Chanyeol stands up, giving Jongin room to get out of the booth. “Now go forth, grasshopper.”

 

Jongin rises hesitantly. Chanyeol fixes his side parting before slapping his hands on his shoulders and shaking him a little.

 

“C’mon, you’re a Toreador. This is our _thing_. Just don’t think too hard and it’ll come easy.” With those words of encouragement, Chanyeol gives him a shove toward the bar.

 

Jongin looks back at him dubiously, and Chanyeol only shoos him away with a grin. He turns back around, taking a deep breath. He forces himself to not pull his sleeves over his hands. He can’t look like a child if he’s going to seduce someone. He walks up to the girl, tapping her gently on the shoulder.

 

When she whips around, Jongin notes that she’s cute. She has a big eyes and a small face. She’s cute, but Jongin’s not attracted to her. Suddenly, he feels like this is a doomed test—how the fuck is going to feign interest? Hi, my name is Jongin, and I’m not really into you but can you give me your number? He’d sound like such a douche.

 

“Uh, did you need something?” she asks, her eyebrows furrowed as Jongin stayed quiet

 

“Um, uh,” Jongin stammers, blanking on what to say. Fuck, he needs to get out of here. “Ah, I’m sorry, I thought you were someone I recognized.” Then he spins around on his heel and practically sprints back to Chanyeol, who’s shaking his head.

 

“You thought too hard,” Chanyeol says bluntly.

 

“I know, I know! It’s just...nerve-wracking.” Jongin sits down to give himself a moment.

 

“Honestly, I could tell you were going to fail just by the way you held yourself when you walked over. You were curled in on yourself. You gotta be more confident, man.” Chanyeol rubs his chin. “It’s not like you’re ugly. Actually, you’re sexy as hell.” Jongin fidgets and Chanyeol rolls his eyes. “Calm down, I’m not making a move on you. Kyungsoo would probably tie me to a lamppost and let me see the sunrise if I tried anything.”

 

Jongin blushes at the implication.

 

“See? You’re whole shy, prudish act is adorable, but it makes me want to wrap you in a blanket and spoon-feed you, not do anything you say. And that won’t work on everyone. Our _presence_ is the center of our clan. Seducing and manipulating...its just what we do.” He tilts his head. “How did you perform in front of so many people if you’re this shy?”

 

“I...” Jongin looks down at his lap, playing with his fingers. Jongin _didn’t_ perform in front of people. Jongin by himself is often uncomfortable in crowds, being an introvert and all. You can’t afford to be shy on stage, though. That’s what Kai is for—Jongin becomes someone different when he gets into his “Kai” mind zone. He becomes more confident, more comfortable in his skin. Kai knows he’s attractive and knows how to mesmerize a crowd.

 

Maybe Jongin is coming at this from the wrong angle. Chanyeol’s description of what Jongin needs to be is _Kai_.

 

“I think I get it now,” Jongin says, his voice stronger. He looks up at Chanyeol, who has an eyebrow raised.

 

Jongin stands up again, this time pulling his shoulder back and standing to his full height. He takes a deep breath again, focusing in on the girl.

 

 _Treat this like a performance_. _She is your audience._

 

He walks back to the bar with steady steps, and he taps the girl’s shoulder again. She turns around again, her eyes flashing in recognition.

 

His lips pull into a charming smile as he looks directly into her eyes. “Hey beautiful, can I buy you a drink?”

 

Jongin notices the difference instantaneously. The girl’s brown eyes become glazed over, her posture suddenly more relaxed. She lets out a high-pitched giggle that grates his ears. “Daddy said I shouldn’t accept drinks from handsome men. Makes them expect something in return.”

 

Oh God. He’s got to flirt back now. Jongin lets out a chuckle, hoping it doesn’t sound too forced. “All I’m asking for a nice conversation with the cutest girl in the bar. What’s your drink of choice?”

 

She giggles again, her hand moving to hide her mouth. “Bloody Mary.”

 

How fitting. He leans over the counter, catching Baekhyun’s eye. Baekhyun gives him a smirk and walks over.

 

“What can I get you?” he asks, amusement clear in his eyes.

 

“A Bloody Mary for the lovely lady, please,” Jongin responds, his smile becoming tight when the girl lets out another giggle.

 

Baekhyun lips curl up even more before he purses his lips to hide his grin. He looks like he’s about to burst out laughing. “You got it, boss.” Baekhyun turns around to make the drink, leaving Jongin to make conversation with the girl again.

 

He gets a name out of her—Song Haeyeon—before Baekhyun returns with her drink.

 

“A Bloody Mary for the lovely lady,” he says, winking subtly at Jongin before moving to attend to someone else.

 

Jongin converses with her a bit more, getting basic information out of her. She’s a third year business student with a minor in fashion at one of the smaller colleges in Seoul. She’s hoping to open up her own boutique some day.

 

“Ah, that means you’re younger than me.” Jongin chuckles.

 

He instantly regrets saying anything when the girl starts calling him _oppa_.

 

“ _Oppa_ ,” she whines. “College is just so hard sometimes, you know? There’s so much competition and everyone is so _mean_...”

 

Jongin nods along obediently, making little noises of acknowledgement as the girl continues to ramble about her university life.

 

“And to make matters worse, I found out my boyfriend was cheating on me with my best friend while I was studying for finals!”

 

Jongin winces; no one deserves to be cheated on, even if they’re annoying. “That’s harsh.”

 

“I know! I’m a good person, okay?” She takes a large sip of her drink. “I don’t understand. Am I not attractive? I know I don’t have a plastic face like those Gangnam bitches...”

 

“Real men like natural girls,” Jongin says, his voice dropping as he leans close. Christ, this is uncomfortable. If only he liked vaginas a little more...

 

The cheap line works on her, though. The girl’s eyes glaze over again, her mouth falling into a small o-shape. She’s completely entranced.

 

He remembers the task Chanyeol gave. “Can you write down your name and your number for me?”

 

She nods obediently, her cheeks flushed. “Yeah, of course.”

 

Jongin takes a clean napkin from behind the bar for her to write on, and looks around for a pen. He lets out a frustrated sigh when he can’t find one, jumping when the girl lets out a noise. He quickly turns back to her, catching her eyes again. She quickly falls under the trance again.

 

A pen appears just below his eyes. Jongin glances to the side to see Baekhyun grinning at him.

 

“Thanks, hyung.” He takes the pen and gives it to the girl, who immediately starts writing.

 

Baekhyun winks at him before walking back down the bar to attend to someone else.

 

She’s on the last digits of her phone number when Jongin remembers he’s supposed to ask her a question of his own. He thinks for a moment.

 

He clears his throat, catching her attention. “Write down you’re favorite dog breed, too.”

 

She diligently writes down “Pomeranian” and hands napkin and pen to Jongin. He places the pen behind the bar and shoves the napkin in his pocket. When he turns back to her, she’s still looking at him expectantly.

 

“It was really nice talking to you,” he says, the beginnings of a smirk on his lips.

 

The girl blushes. “Y-yeah.”

 

Jongin is not sure what to do now. Does he just walk away? That seems rude, and she’d definitely notice that. While he’s debating what to do, he accidentally removes his presence.

 

The girl starts blinking, the glaze leaving her eyes. “Ahhh,” she hisses, bringing a hand up to her forehead.

 

“Are you okay?” Jongin asks in concern, his Kai façade dropped.

 

“I have a really bad headache all of the sudden,” she whimpers. “What were you saying?”

 

“Uh, just asking if you were all right. You seemed in pain.”

 

“I must’ve drunk too much. Maybe its time I head home.”

 

“Oh, uh.” Jongin gulps. “Do you need help? Do you want me to call a taxi?”

 

“Yes, please.”

 

Jongin helps support her, protecting her from some of the rowdier groups. He helps her up the stairs to the street. Jongin easily hails a cab for her, holding the door as she slides in.

 

“Take care,” he says before closing the door.

 

Once the cab down the block, he lets himself get excited. He lets out a slightly panicked laugh and crouches to the ground, a little psyched out. He fucking did it. He successfully manipulated someone using his abilities. He runs his hands through his hair, gripping at the strands for a moment before standing back up. He has to tell the others!

 

Jongin quickly reenters the bar. His eyes immediately land on Kyungsoo working at the front end of the bar. Jongin practically runs over to him, throwing the top half of his body onto the bar to grab Kyungsoo’s attention.

 

Kyungsoo looks over at him curiously, that fond look shining in his eyes. Jongin pulls out the now-crumbled napkin and thrusts it in front of him.

 

“I did it!” he declares.

 

Kyungsoo leans foreword to read the words before giving Jongin a grin.

 

“I’m so proud of you,” he says gently.

 

Jongin swears his heart comes back to life just to palpitate at the sight of that heart-shaped smile and those crescent eyes directed at solely at him.

 

⧩

 

Chanyeol ruffles Jongin’s hair. “I knew you had it in you!”

 

Jongin giggles, pulling away from the older Toreador and fixing his locks. The bar is closed, and everyone is sitting in the back corner booth.

 

“What’s ‘Pomeranian’ mean?” Kyungsoo asks, the napkin in front of him.

 

Jongin blushes. “I asked her what he favorite dog breed was.”

 

Chanyeol and Baekhyun burst into laughter.

 

“Our Jonginnie is so cute!” Baekhyun gushes and reaches over to pinch at his cheeks.

 

“Indeed, he is,” Kyungsoo agrees, resting his chin on his hand.

 

Jongin looks down at his hands on the table; when Kyungsoo called him cute, it felt different.

 

“You’re one step closer to being a real Toreador,” Chanyeol says, pulling Jongin into his side. Jongin finds himself completely used to Chanyeol’s skin ship and gladly leans into the hold.

 

He’s never felt happier than he did in that moment, sitting at the table laughing with the three people he’s starting to consider real friends.

 

⧩

 

A few nights later Jongin finds himself cleaning the tables as the others bustle around him in preparations for opening. Baekhyun is stationed behind the bar, as always, as Chanyeol cleans tables on the other side of the room. Kyungsoo disappeared into the stockroom earlier to find some liquor Baekhyun needed.

 

“Get ready for a long, boring night,” Chanyeol comments, his deep voice carrying around the room.

 

“It’s only boring to you because there’s no band playing,” Baekhyun shoots back, an amused smile on his lips.

 

“That’s the best part of this place!”

 

“It’s true,” Jongin adds, jumping into the conversation. “ _Yelp_ says the live bands are the major draw to this place. Also the ‘incredibly attractive staff’, but mostly the bands that are amateur but quality.”

 

“Of course the bands are quality. I choose them,” Chanyeol says. After a snort from Baekhyun, he amends, “With a little input from Kyungsoo. Not that it matters. I can recognize talent with a single look. Also it’s cute you’ve looked at our _Yelp_ reviews.”

 

Jongin chuckles at the preening man; it’s so obvious his Toreador weakness is music.

 

Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “We get it, Kanye; you’re a musical genius.”

 

“Hell yeah I am!” Chanyeol responds proudly, eliciting laughs from Baekhyun and Jongin.

 

“You’re what? An idiot?” Kyungsoo asks as he emerges from the stockroom with a box.

 

Jongin and Baekhyun laugh harder as Chanyeol whines. “You’re all so mean to me.”

 

“If the night is gonna be so boring, why don’t you go up there and perform?” Baekhyun taunts.

 

“Maybe I will!”

 

“Oh, god. Please don’t play that grunge bullshit you did in the nineties,” Kyungsoo begs.

 

“I’ll play Nirvana all night and dedicate each song to the lovely proprietor of _Growl_.”

 

The bar erupts into laughter again as Kyungsoo grimaces.

 

However, the light atmosphere collapses the second an unfamiliar man waltzes into the bar. He’s short, around Baekhyun’s height, with medium length black hair and an unsettling, cat-like grin on his lips. Jongin glances around, noticing that all the elder vampires are completely still, their eyes trained on the man. Jongin watches Kyungsoo’s jaw set as he pulls his shoulders back, bringing them to their full width.

 

The man looks around the room, his grin only widening. “You all really know how to show a warm welcoming, don’t you?”

 

“What do you want, Jongdae?” Kyungsoo says tersely.

 

“Am I not allowed to check up on my favorite band of misfits?”

 

Baekhyun scoffs. “Just answer the question. We all know Minseok doesn’t like it when his lapdog is gone for long.”

 

Jongin watches curiously as this Jongdae man tenses at “lapdog”, his eyes flashing with anger. However, he maintains his grin. “Come now, Baekhyun, enough with the juvenile antics. Aren’t we all a bit too old for name calling?” Jongdae’s gaze flicks over to Jongin. “Well, not _all_ of us.”

 

Kyungsoo shifts, subtly putting his body between Jongdae and Jongin.

 

The action only causes Jongdae to laugh. “Already possessive, I see.” Jongin shivers as the man drags his eyes down his body before looking back at Kyungsoo with a sharp smirk. “My, Kyungsoo, he's certainly easy on the eyes. Are you really keeping him around only out of the goodness of your still heart?”

 

“Why are you here,” Kyungsoo questions stiffly, his hands curling into fists at his side. “You know the Camarilla is not welcome here.”

 

Jongdae sneers. “Minseok would’ve shown you your Final Death if he heard you say he’s Camarilla.”

 

“I don’t have time for your political bullshit,” Kyungsoo retorts. Jongin stares at him in shock; he can feel the man becoming angrier by the second. “State your purpose or get out.”

 

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the coffin this morning, didn’t he?”

 

Kyungsoo tilts his head. “How would Minseok like it if his ghoul turned up on his doorstep without a tongue? I’d be doing the world a favor, I think.”

 

“You’d start a war.” Jongdae sighs. “But at least you’d finally be acting like a true Brujah and not the disgrace to the clan you are now.”

 

“Like you know anything about being a true Brujah, considering Minseok still refuses to Embrace you. How long has it been now? Almost a hundred and sixty years, right?” Jongin gulps at the sight of an unfamiliar, lethal smirk on Kyungsoo’s lips as his silver eyes shine dangerously. “Does it still hurt knowing that he Embraced me, someone eighty years your junior, and not you?”

 

Jongin watches as Jongdae completely stiffens, his face contorting in anger. “You were a mistake. Minseok said so.”

 

“He did,” Kyungsoo agrees icily, his voice colder than Jongin’s ever heard it, “but in the end I’m the one he chose.”

 

“ _Okay_ ,” Chanyeol jumps in, frantically looking to disable the situation. “I like torturing Jongdae as much as the next guy, but the longer you two argue the longer he stays in here and we’re opening in twenty minutes.”

 

Kyungsoo and Jongdae continue to stare each other down, both refusing to back down.

 

Jongin bites his lips before reaching out and touching Kyungsoo’s tensed bicep. “ _Hyung_.”

 

The touch brings Kyungsoo back into the room. He glances at Jongin’s hand before looking at Jongin behind him. Jongin offers him a small smile and Kyungsoo’s body immediately relaxes as he lets out a sigh.

 

“Just tell me why you’re here, Jongdae,” Kyungsoo says in his normal, collected tone. “I don’t want to fight.”

 

“You never do,” Jongdae grumbles indignantly before he raises his voice. “You know why I’m here, Kyungsoo. For some unfathomable reason, Minseok still worries about _you_ , his little mistake. He caught wind of you harboring a sire-less childe and sent me to make sure you hadn’t gone completely mad. But as it turns out, your bleeding heart has gotten the best of you once again.”

 

Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow. “If that’s it, you know where the door is.”

 

Jongdae scoffs and rolls his eyes. “As if I’d come all the way here just to tell you Minseok still gives a shit about you. I have some updates on your little bed warmer’s investigation.”

 

Jongin stiffens, his eyes widening.

 

Jongdae flashes him a smirk. “That’s an adorable look on you. No wonder Kyungsoo took you in.”

 

Kyungsoo lets out a warning growl.

 

“Calm down. As I was saying, the investigation is at a standstill.”

 

Jongin furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “What?”

 

“They can’t identify your sire,” Jongdae explains. “The scene is practically spotless, and none of the Toreadors have given up anything. Our dearest prince tried to threaten Yu, but that old creep has decades on the idiot. The Camarilla is publicly maintaining the investigation to avoid embarrassment, but it’s superficial.”

 

“So what is the Camarilla really planning on doing?” Kyungsoo questions.

 

Jongdae shrugs. “I don’t fucking know. Probably just hope that everyone will forget about the whole debacle. _You’re_ the one with the Camarilla connections. Find out on your own.”

 

Though the words were obviously meant in malice, Kyungsoo looks like he’s contemplating calling Junmyeon.

 

“Well, that’s all I’m supposed to tell you. See you never again, hopefully.”

 

“You’re _such_ a good errand boy, Jongdae,” Baekhyun mockingly gushes. “Now run along back to your master.”

 

“Don’t you have a shriveled, dusty Tremere Elder cock to go suck, Byun?” Jongdae sneers.

 

Baekhyun’s expression hardens as he shifts in Jongdae’s direction, but Chanyeol grabs his arm to stop him. “It ain’t worth it, Baek.”

 

The ghoul lets out a venomous laugh. “And _I’m_ the lapdog?”

 

“Get out,” Kyungsoo says sternly. “You’re done here.”

 

Jongdae glances at Kyungsoo before turning his gaze to Jongin. “You’ll learn to regret your decision, fledgling,” he says with sharp eyes. “A pacifist Brujah? It’s a fucking oxymoron. You’d be better off with someone who takes full advantage of the their clan’s gifts.”

 

Before Jongin can even fully process the statement, Kyungsoo responds, “Leave before I do something I regret. Humans are so fragile, after all.”

 

With one last glare, the Brujah ghoul turns on his heels and marches out of the bar.

 

The atmosphere, however, remains heavy on Jongin’s shoulders as no one makes a sound. He’s too afraid to say anything; Baekhyun obviously still wants to fight and Kyungsoo looks like he’s trying to hold back his emotions. Jongin looks to Chanyeol for guidance, but his has his worried gaze focused on Baekhyun.

 

Kyungsoo breaks the silence. “I’ll be upstairs,” he mutters before walking out of the bar.

 

Jongin watches him helplessly, trying to think of a way to comfort the man. Beside him, Baekhyun yanks his arm out of Chanyeol’s grip and walks back behind the bar, his face set in a scowl.

 

“You should go to him,” Chanyeol advises Jongin softly. “I’ll stay with Baekhyun.”

 

Jongin doesn’t question him and jogs after Kyungsoo.

 

⧩

 

He finds Kyungsoo standing in the middle of the apartment, completely still. Kyungsoo whips his head in his direction when Jongin enters. The fledgling shivers when he sees Kyungsoo’s glowing silver eyes. There’s something more _bestial_ about them now, and Jongin feels fear seeping into his skin.

 

“I’ll be down in a few minutes. Just—” Kyungsoo runs a hand down his face. “Just give me moment.”

 

“Hyung,” Jongin starts off weakly. He clears his voice before beginning again, this time stronger. “Kyungsoo-hyung.”

 

Kyungsoo lets out a sigh and turns to look at him again, his eyes slightly calmer.

 

“It’s not good to keep your emotions in,” Jongin says. “I don’t know much about the clans, but from what I gathered just now, the Brujah aren’t supposed to...suppress everything.”

 

Kyungsoo lets out a bitter laugh. “Didn’t you hear Jongdae? I’m defective. A mistake. I’m not wired like the rest of them are.”

 

“We all get angry,” Jongin reasons. “It’s not good for any of us to ignore it. You’ll explode.”

 

“Ah, the true Brujah way. Explode out of anger and go into a frenzy,” Kyungsoo muses. “We wouldn’t want that, would we?”

 

Jongin takes a step closer to him. “That would be bad.”

 

“What do you suppose I do to get rid of my anger? Pick up a sport? Boxing, perhaps?”

 

“Who will run the bar?” Another step closer.

 

“Good point. I could hunt.”

 

Another step. “I don’t think you’re in the right mind for that.”

 

“I suppose you’re right. I don’t need more death on my hands.” Kyungsoo looks Jongin directly in the eyes, an all too familiar emotion swirling within them. “Sex is a good energy drainer.”

 

Warmth spreads throughout Jongin’s body as he falters in his step, his throat suddenly dry. Was Kyungsoo propositioning him? Jongin watches as Kyungsoo’s silver gaze shifts to his lips and—shit _,_ he _was_ asking Jongin to have sex with him.

 

Christ, all Jongin wanted to do was drop to his knees and let Kyungsoo have his dirty way with him. The dreams of Kyungsoo holding him, pushing him to the ground, and covering him with his body all come flashing to the forefront of Jongin mind. As Jongin closes the distance between them, his body is telling him to bend down and kiss Kyungsoo with all he has.

 

His mind tells him that no, sex _doesn’t_ solve everything, especially the deep-seated rage Kyungsoo has within himself.

 

So he ignores the pleas of his body and grabs Kyungsoo’s hand. “I think talking is a good starting point.”

 

The lust leaves Kyungsoo’s eye immediately, replaced with a mix of shame and guilt. “Fuck, Jongin. I’m sorry—“

 

The fledgling hushes him. “I’m not saying _no_ ,” he says cheekily, “just that it’s not the right time for that. Besides, I’m a third date type of guy, Mr. Do.”

 

Kyungsoo fixes him with one of his softest, fondest gazes yet. “You always amaze me by how mature you can be for someone so young.”

 

“I like to keep things interesting.”

 

Kyungsoo chuckles and squeezes Jongin’s hand before dragging him over to the couch. They sit with their thighs touching, their held hands lying in Kyungsoo’s lap.

 

“Where do I start?” Kyungsoo lets out a breath.

 

“Who’s Minseok?”

 

Kyungsoo closes his eyes and leans back against the couch. “The Baron of the southern half of Seoul. My sire. He’s not Camarilla, like Jongdae said. The Camarilla took over about thirty years ago, and he didn’t have enough manpower to take Seoul back. That didn’t stop him from trying though.” Kyungsoo opens his eyes. “So many of our clan sacrificed themselves for his lost cause. I suppose that why I left him.” He snorts. “I used to worship the ground he walked on. It took the death of my clan mates to realize how disillusioned I was.”

 

Jongin brings both his hands to cradle Kyungsoo’s hand reassuringly.

 

“It’s in our nature, to want to fight,” Kyungsoo continues. “When I was younger, it was different. I was alive when the Japanese invaded Korea. My family owned a farm, but our harvest was never as plentiful as the others. We had to sell what we had to the landlord lest we be arrested, leaving us with very little. My mother gave my siblings and me her portion, saying that we needed it more than she did. I was stupid—I didn’t realize she was wasting away to make sure her three children would survive.” Kyungsoo closes his eyes again, and Jongin leans closer to comfort the man. “She died during the winter. It left a scar in my family that would only grow bigger as time passed. My father became distant and hollow, so it was up to my older brother and me to tend to the fields. My little sister was young—thirteen—but she took up my mother’s duties to lessen the burden on us.

 

“My father was a piece of shit. He’d spend the little money we’d make on alcohol. I suppose it numbed the pain of losing his wife, but he still had children to care for.” His fist clenches. “I still haven’t forgiven him for what he did to us, and I’m not sure I ever will. He’s the reason why the soldiers started to poke around our farm; they wanted to find out where the village drunk went when he wasn’t vomiting on the side of the road.”

 

Kyungsoo takes a deep breath, visibly restraining himself. “They caught sight of my sister in the front yard. My brother and I were in the fields—we never realized the soldiers had shown up. Only my father could hear the sound of their truck pulling up to the house. But he did nothing as they harassed my younger sister, shoved her around and told her was pretty for a ‘Korean whore’.” Kyungsoo spits the last words out, anger marring his face. “I only found out because she came running to me in tears after. When I found out my father hadn’t done anything, I went ballistic. I started throwing things and yelling at him, screaming about how he was a waste of space and a disgusting excuse of a father. My brother had to hold me back from physically hurting him.”

Jongin wraps his arm around Kyungsoo’s shoulder, and the other instinctively leans against him with a sigh.

 

“You learned about comfort women in school, right?” Kyungsoo asks, his voice hollow.

 

Jongin tenses, knowing where this story is going.

 

“My sister got a letter in the mail, saying that she was requested to work in a factory to produce war material for the Japanese. I was really ready to kill all the soldiers then, and I’m pretty sure my brother would have joined me, but my sister begged us not to do anything rash. I stood by as the truck took her and other young girls away, helplessly watching as I could do _nothing_. God, I can still remember her face as she left—she looked empty.”

 

Kyungsoo lets out a shuddering breath before continuing. “So my mother and little sister were gone. When my brother turned nineteen he was drafted into the Japanese army. He was killed about a year later, toward the end of the war. I was left with my deadbeat father and a farm I couldn’t take care of on my own. I took up drinking because there was nothing else I could do. I was barely making the payments every month and the funds kept dwindling as our land became more barren.

 

“I used to run away to the nearby town because that’s where the best soju was kept. It was there I met Kim fucking Minseok and his goddamn Resistance. One speech and I was hooked. It felt like he was speaking directly to me. He took my anger and pain and gave me the reason I needed for living—to liberate Korea from the hands of the Japanese.

 

“I immediately asked how I could help. They sent me on small jobs at first, like spying on soldiers in bars. I earned their favor pretty quickly—they started helping me pay for the farm, treating me like family. I did so well I caught the eye of the leader himself.

 

“When he told me what he was—what the core members were—I didn’t question it. I just wanted revenge. Minseok made me apart of his squadron of ghouls. I was content knowing I was serving him properly. Jongdae was part of that squadron—still is—and he was so much more devoted than I was. It was obvious his devotion was more of an obsession, and Minseok only fueled it. I always felt bad, watching as Jongdae all but verbally declared his love for Minseok to only be ignored.

 

“As a ghoul I was given more important jobs. I went on raids, transported documents, even killed a few soldiers. In the end, we didn’t do much. The Japanese started to leave after it became obvious the Americans were going to destroy them. The bombs got rid the rest of them.

 

“I continued to follow Minseok around, blind in my devotion to him. I had no one left. I was twenty-four when he decided to Embrace me. Jongdae started hating me then.

 

“Becoming a Brujah only increased the rage within me. When the Korean War started, I proudly fought for the South. I killed so many Chinese with wild abandon, just to quench the Beast. I killed more than any of my brethren, only further impressing Minseok. In no time I was his right hand man. That’s when Jongdae started to _despise_ me. I was in the position he vied for for decades. I got to spend every waking moment with Minseok, while he was still a lowly ghoul pleading for the attention of the man he worshipped.

 

“Minseok settled control of Seoul after South Korea settled. He held that position until 1983 when the Camarilla took over. As I gained years, the rage quieted. I was nowhere near as volatile as I was in my youth. I came to terms with the fact that my family was dead, and no amount of killing would bring them back or honor their memory.

 

“I wasn’t _supposed_ to do that. The Brujah stay angry, stay volatile, always ready to frenzy. But I saw no use in that. What did Minseok’s violence bring about? At that point, nothing. The Camarilla outnumbered us, but he continued to fight this one-sided war that cut our numbers in half. I was no longer angry at the Camarilla, but at him. I had no will to fight any longer as I realized I had spent the better part of a century blindly following him into battles and wars I didn’t necessarily agree with.

 

“So I left him. I distanced myself from the violence and the battle and complied with the Camarilla. The Brujah don’t have strong clan ties and they’re all about free will so they didn’t come after me. Minseok was pissed, sure, but over the years he’s left me alone for the most part.” Kyungsoo lets out a sigh, looking absolutely drained. “I have the blood of warriors coursing through my veins yet I no longer find passion in conflict, and that’s why I’m a mistake."

 

“But you’re not a mistake,” Jongin whispers coarsely, his throat dry.

 

Kyungsoo raises his head to look at him, an eyebrow raised.

 

He gulps to wet his throat and looks Kyungsoo directly in the eye. “If you hadn’t been Embraced, then I would have been executed.”

 

Kyungsoo holds his gaze for a moment before turning away. “You give me too much credit.”

 

“Actually, I don’t give you enough.” Jongin tilts his head trying to catch Kyungsoo’s eyes again. “I owe you my life, Kyungsoo.”

 

“Don’t bind yourself to me like that—“

 

“Stop selling yourself so short.” Jongin leans his head down slowly, resting his forehead on the top of Kyungsoo’s head. “You’re the most selfless person I’ve ever met. You didn’t think twice about harboring me, even though the Camarilla could’ve killed you if they found out before you told them. You kept me alive even when I wanted to die. I’ll be forever in your debt, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to repay you.”

 

“Jongin, I didn’t save you so I could call on a favor.” He angles his head up to slide their foreheads together. “You deserve this second chance at life.”

 

They stay like that, their noses faintly brushing as they inhale in the scent of each other. The air is warm, comforting, and safe—all qualities Jongin has come to associate with Kyungsoo. He feels his muscles relaxing, his brain melting as he finds himself lost in soothing Kyungsoo’s presence.

 

Filled with confidence he knows will soon disappear, Jongin forces out, “I like you. A lot.”

 

“I know.” Kyungsoo smiles, unfazed. “You’re easy to read.”

 

Jongin can’t stop a pout from forming on his lips. “Don’t you like me, too?”

 

Kyungsoo chuckles and nuzzles into the fledgling affectionately. “I’m surprised you can’t tell. I wasn’t very subtle with my flirting either.”

 

Jongin’s pout deepens, his eyebrows furrowing. Sue him for needing constant reassurance that he isn’t overstepping boundaries.

 

Kyungsoo only laughs again. “Don’t look at me like that, you brat.”

 

“You’re making this more difficult than it needs to be.”

 

“’I like to keep things interesting’,” he responds cheekily.

 

“ _Stop_ ,” Jongin whines, pulling his head back. He instantly pulls his legs up onto the couch and tucks his head into his knees.

 

Kyungsoo’s laughter rings in the air, only further adding to the red rising to Jongin’s cheeks. He feels the other’s body press against his side before a nose is rubbing at the exposed apple of his cheek.

 

“I like you, too,” Kyungsoo whispers into his ear.

 

Jongin peaks out from his hiding spot in his knees, checking to see if Kyungsoo has huge, joking grin on his face that screams “Sike! Sorry for leading you on for months but I’m strictly into chicks”, but all he sees is a tender smile and eyes crinkled in affection.

 

“You’re not lying,” Jongin says mindlessly in wonderment, instantly coloring again when he realizes he said the statement out loud.

 

“I’d never lie to you, Jongin.”

 

The two fall into a heavy silence, silver eyes faintly glowing as a rosy haze settles around them. Kyungsoo’s intense, half-lidded gaze has Jongin melting into the couch as the world around them becomes nonexistent. Jongin dips his head downward as Kyungsoo inclines his, the noses touching just _barely_.

 

“Can I kiss you?” whispers Jongin, his eyes flickering down to Kyungsoo’s lips.

 

Kyungsoo nods, and both move to close the distance.

 

Jongin can’t stop himself from sighing into the kiss as Kyungsoo cradles his cheeks, their lips moving slowly against each other. His lips are just as soft as Jongin always imagined, the thumbs rubbing against his cheekbones _liquefy_ him. The smell of the blood pumping in Kyungsoo’s veins quickening only further excites him.

 

Kyungsoo chuckles against Jongin’s lips, having sensed his burst of energy, before pulling away. “Easy, baby.”

 

 _Baby_. Kyungsoo just called him _baby_. Jongin flusters, avoiding Kyungsoo’s amused gaze.

 

“What’s the matter, _baby_?”

 

Jongin groans and hides his face in Kyungsoo’s shoulder, only causing him to laugh and hug him tightly.

 

“You know what you’re doing to me,” Jongin mumbles into his shirt.

 

Kyungsoo hums in agreement. “That’s why I’m having so much fun.”

 

Jongin moves his head to look at Kyungsoo again. “I hate you.”

 

Kyungsoo smiles and brushes their noses together. “You sure?”

 

“Yeah,” Jongin breathes before their lips crash together again.

 

He wraps his arms around Kyungsoo’s neck, humming in content as Kyungsoo’s hand rest on his hips. He surges forward with confidence, set on getting Kyungsoo flat on his back. He only makes it half way, though; one of Kyungsoo’s hands leaves his hips to support both of them on the couch, while the other drops to the small of his back, fingers just brushing the start of his ass. He moans unintentionally, causing Kyungsoo to smirk.

 

Suddenly, a knock at the door has them both pausing comically, their lips still connected but their eyes turning toward the door.

 

“Hey, guys,” Chanyeol’s voice carries through the door. “I think its best to close the bar today. I’m gonna take Baek home.”

 

Kyungsoo pushes them back into a sitting position. “Sounds good. Just lock the front door and put up a sign.”

 

“You got it, boss.” His heavy footsteps recede back down the stairs, leaving them in silence again.

 

“What’s that look for?” Kyungsoo asks as he rubs his hand up Jongin’s back, and only then does Jongin realize he’s glaring at the door with a snarl on his lips.

 

He shakes his head, riding himself of expression. “Shit, sorry. I don’t know why I was like that.” _It’s because Chanyeol cockblocked you_ , his mind supplies, but he ignores it.

 

Kyungsoo smiles. “Wanna watch a movie or two? To unwind.”

 

Jongin nods. “Sounds good.”

 

They end up settling on a _The Walking Dead_ marathon. Jongin lays his arm on the back of the couch as Kyungsoo tucks into his side. He rests his cheek on the top of Kyungsoo’s head, sighing contently when the smaller curls against him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> consent is sexy kids ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ
> 
> ok so like...i had random inspiration to force myself to post this. i hope its satisfactory? not happy about how i ended this part but idk what else i can do
> 
> still incomplete on my computer, but im slowly working toward the climax so i hope i can get the rest of this behemoth out within the next few months
> 
> thanks for sticking with me
> 
> ALSO I REALIZE DELETING THE CHAPTER MEANS THAT THE COMMENTS ON THE PREVIOUS ONE WERE REMOVED IM SORRYY


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